CHAPTER XVII. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. My Mom and Dad were on the brink of divorce, what else is new, they still are. The man asked twelve guineas, but after a little bargaining, he came down to ten. “I wonder what you could do?” he said. . “You will go and see her,” he begged. But I am not indisposed to gratify you.
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